Tango
by SaturnineSunshine
Summary: Time-line season 4 even though it hasn't happened yet. My attempt to reunite Chuck and Blair. AGain. "She shouldn't have let the first contact they had since that catastrophe be a dance. Waltz, tango, meringue, it didn't matter."


**A/N**: So here we go. Don't hate me, but I am kind of a not so closet Dair fan. I know a lot of people say they will stop watching the show if that happens (but its going to, so get over it.) I don't like them as a serious couple but as a hilarious one, because come on. Its Blair and Dan. Anyway, future fic. You have been forwarned. (Don't worry. Chair will always be the true ship.)

**Summary**: She shouldn't have let the first contact they had since that catastrophe be a dance. Waltz, tango, meringue, it didn't matter

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine except the cliche SL and Chairness.

* * *

She can feel his eyes. Searching, dark, and in some ways, impenetrable.

She hates him. She really does. She knows there is only one person that could have driven her to such a low, low place.

"So I guess we're over."

Blair looks over her shoulder to the strangely sincere eyes of Dan Humphrey. She can't help the cruel laugh that escapes her lips. It's not his fault. This is just the way things are. And he really doesn't care that much anyway.

"We never even started," Blair said turning away so she could feel his eyes on her bare back again. But that was it. Because he was right. This was over. This was something that never even began. It was all she could think of to pretend that his dark eyes were slanting and calculating.

She never should have been so stupid.

She doesn't reach for her clothing, however. She just lies back, pulling the sheet to her chest because he never should have seen any of that to begin with.

"What are you thinking?"

Chuck wouldn't have even had to ask. He just knew. He always knew.

"Guess."

"Chuck."

Charles Bartholomew Bass. The plague of her fucking existence. Because now she had attempted the moving on thing to no avail. She tried on the opposites attract thing that just backfired.

She never should have danced with him.

"It was the dance."

Always so astute, Humphrey. He understands her sarcasm though she doesn't voice it aloud. Strangely enough, they understand each other. Not to the degree when manipulative minds meet manipulative minds. But enough that if she didn't think about it too much, sleeping with Dan Humphrey didn't make her that nauseous.

"I let my guard down," Blair murmured.

He is silent. He doesn't know what to say.

For a moment.

"You were thinking of him."

"Pardon?" Blair asked, playing dumb.

"In the middle..." Dan said uncomfortably. "I could tell. The way you put your face away."

"What makes you think I don't always think of him?" Blair asked coolly.

"I don't," he sighed. "It was just tonight that you let him get to you."

"You don't say," Blair murmured.

"Why did you let him dance with you like that?" Dan inquired.

"Because I wanted it."

She didn't say _because I wanted to_ or _I wanted him to._

She wanted it.

_It_.

It was only a matter of time now.

* * *

She shouldn't have let the first contact they had since that catastrophe be a dance. Waltz, tango, meringue, it didn't matter. Their bodies were pressed against each other sensually and Humphrey was right. She couldn't help but drag him away to have sex with him, imagining it was Chuck.

Her real problem, however, was admitting it. Because now that smug bastard was smirking it her like he had won.

Why she ever trusted someone from Brooklyn, she would never know.

She knew the only reason Chuck hadn't annihilated Dan by now was because he had information that Chuck held precious.

Dan was just lucky she hadn't annihilated him herself.

"So. Humphrey."

"Before you start judging me on that high horse of yours, Bass," Blair warned, "let me remind you of a little Brooklyn detour took yourself."

"Judge?" Chuck asked. "Since when do I judge? If anything, I am the only one who doesn't judge you."

"That doesn't mean that it's appropriate that you be in my room," Blair reminded him, trying to usher him out.

"Appropriate?" Chuck leered. "Like that dance last night? The most contact I've had from you since before the summer. And apparently it meant that much to you as well. You were just lucky that you didn't call out my name in the middle of it."

Blair bit back a retort because she knew that she had been very close to doing just that.

"That's what I thought."

His usual saunter had a lilt of slight scotch and Blair knew there was no escaping this. Because she wanted this. She had wanted this for as long as he had.

"Don't," she said softly, warding him away with her hands. He just took them in his, kissing them softly.

"Don't?" he asked.

She knew there was no confusion in him whatsoever.

"Don't make me say it," Blair said. "Don't make me say what I don't want you to do."

"You do want me to," Chuck said. "I know you do."

"That doesn't mean we should."

"We," he smirked.

He couldn't even count the months since he heard her use that word.

"So. Humphrey," he mentioned again. "Was he really that good that warranted more than once?"

"He was good," Blair said cruelly, finding the opening that was too easy to wound. She watched his eyes flash with betrayal. She should have stopped the next words coming out of her mouth. "But that doesn't mean that he even compared."

"Because no one does," Chuck reminded her of something that seemed like decades past. "Remember?"

"How could I forget?" she asked softly, more to herself.

"I've asked myself that every day since you left," he said, breaking down her defenses. He could finally caress her pale arms like he had done with a red balloon between them. But there was nothing between them. And he would never let there be again.

She let him nuzzle her neck familiarly like he would only do when they were alone. And she knew things were getting too intimate for her. She pushed him away, telling herself the hurt in his eyes was too easy to resurrect to be real.

"I'm not ready," she said breathily. The first honest thing she had said time him since before _Goodbye, Chuck_.

She didn't expect his jocular chuckle. "Neither am I."

Blair couldn't help but stare at the face she had missed far too much."...What?"

"I was never ready to be your...boyfriend," Chuck said with much apparent difficulty. "I didn't know how to be one. I wasn't bred for it. But I knew if I didn't then I would lose you. And that was something I didn't know how to do even more. Because I wasn't bred for being without you either. So I did the impossible and pretended to do something that I had no idea how to. And looked how that turned out."

"So, what?" Blair asked. "Why the trouble of trying to convince me that we belong together?"

"Because we do," Chuck said. "That's the only thing that I was ever sure of. Girlfriend or not, you belong to me. And only me. And if that makes you my girlfriend, then that's what it does. If it makes you my wife, my mistress, my paramour, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes."

"And what about Humphrey?" Blair taunted. "Did you ever think about how I was his concubine?"

"Words like that don't describe you and Humphrey," Chuck spat. "They describe you and me. Don't fool yourself into thinking this can go any other way than it already is."

"And what way is that?" Blair asked throatily.

"What way do you want it?" Chuck asked throatily. "Because I have updated my repertoire specifically for the make up sex we're about to have."

"I would love to hear about the gargantuan amount of women you seduced while we were apart," Blair sneered.

"Because you're jealous," Chuck smirked. "Not to worry. The limited amount of threesomes I participated in didn't even amount to the number of fantasies I concocted about the ways I would take you when the time came."

"That doesn't change the fact that..." Blair said shakily.

"You're scared?" Chuck asked. "You think everything you feel is news to me but it's not. You think I haven't felt the same things you have. You think I don't fear our destruction. But what exactly will salve that fear?"

Blair looked away.

"I still love you," she whispered.

"Good," Chuck retorted. "Because if I thought any differently, I wouldn't be here."

"So you know that means I am one hundred times more frightened than I was when I first told you I loved you."

"A thousand times," he corrected with a smile. "And it took your little excursion with Humphrey to realize that."

"No," Blair said indifferently. "I just needed to be away from you for awhile to realize how much you are not going away."

"Romantic notion."

"And you're all about romanticism."

"If romanticism means having you on your own carpet right now," Chuck said, "then yes. Then you know how romantic I can be."

"And what is that, Chuck?" Blair asked. "Your paramour? Your concubine?"

"You want to be my girlfriend again," Chuck smirked.

"I want to be your something," Blair said. "But I don't want it to hurt that much again."

"I can't promise you that anymore than you can promise me that," he said softly, his fingers ghosting across the straps of her dress.

"Then what can you promise?" Blair asked.

"Forever," he promised. "You are the one and only woman I have ever loved. And I know that is the one constant that will never change."

"Chuck."

"Yes," he whispered across her lips.

"I don't want you to touch me while I'm tainted with Humphrey," Blair said, pushing him away, only half kidding.

"Not to worry, lover," Chuck grinned, pulling determinedly at her clothing. "I can grind every touch he gave you right out of you."

Because Chuck really did have that God given talent of making her clothes literally nonexistent.

Sweating and entangled, she knew there was not one false word that made it from his charismatic mouth that night.

"I'm tired," she sighed petulantly, having the energy sapped from her so that she couldn't find it in herself to even get off the kitchen counter.

"Could it be?" Chuck asked into her shoulder blades. "I have finally defeated the all powerful queen."

The counter was cold on her back as she rolled over, glaring into his glinting eyes.

"You're nothing but talk," she taunted.

"Is that so?" Chuck asked. "Because you have truly underestimated the numbers of times that I've fantasized about you. We have yet to act all of them out."

"He helped me, Chuck," Blair said quietly. "He helped me get back to you."

"I know," Chuck said smugly. "He was the one who got you to dance with me to my coercion."

"You have the most twisted notion of devotion I have ever seen."

"It matches yours," he said. "We sleep with other people when we deem it necessary but it's always us."

"Chuck," she said admittedly.

"Yes."

"That tango made me want you."

Their dance was always their weakness.


End file.
